Silver Tears On Golden Lashes
Chapter One: Godo's Dream
By LoveAnimeForever
The country of Wutai – a village though it had a continent to itself – had three princesses. One was royal by blood, the other two by adoption. The eldest had been a ragtag kid in the slums of faraway Midgar, and because of her rough childhood, Tifa was a good fighter, as well as streetsmart. The middle child, Aeris, was of the sweetest and gentlest disposition, despite recurring nightmares of her mother's death. Godo – the closest Wutai would ever come to a King – had found them through Leviathan. The Water God had haunted him with visions of the run-down city and blurred faces until he gave in, and headed for Midgar. Once there, everything had fallen into place, like fate, and Godo had come home with two more daughters.
Of course, he had his own blood daughter – coincidentally the least fit to rule the village – Yuffie, the youngest child. Sometimes Godo wondered if she'd been born with an attention disorder, or perhaps a hearing disorder, since she liked to be so loud all the time. All the same, Yuffie was too bubbly to be hated, and all three sisters were well-liked by all the Wutaians. Godo held a gruff sort of pride for them, and rather dreaded the day he would have to pick one of them to be his heir.
But then, there were other problems to worry about…
It was night. Godo sat by open paper doors, facing a garden with trees and pond, complete with a gentle breeze waltzing past. But he wasn't paying attention to it; he looked, instead, skyward, to the stars that shone so clearly, so knowingly, over Wutai. They knew something he didn't, surely. And they would know what to do with the dream that just woke him in the middle of the night…
Leviathan's shrine, in one of the caves bored deep into the mountains behind Wutai, was not at all what you would expect of the Water God. There were fires surrounding the altar – fierce, savage fires that never went out. It was a show of his power – that he was strong enough to use an opposing element for his own purposes – and they could only be put out by one thing. Godo held out the Leviathan Scale that he wore around his neck, and the flames receded to the walls, remaining only to provide light. Now, he was face-to-face with the Sea Serpent himself – a long body of reflective aquamarine and eyes crimson as the flames that surrounded his altar.
"My Heir, time is short. Your children have remembered for you for many a past year; it is time you remembered as well."
Godo found himself suddenly outside the cave, in harsh daylight so different from the flickering firelight of Leviathan's Shrine. He was in one of the village squares, where the children liked to play. There was a small group of girls skipping rope, the ropes moving with the rhythm of a nursery rhyme they were reciting.
Silver tears on golden lashes
And blood-red rain on silver hair
Sun, dark like the deepest night
And shadows pale as day
Do not taint this memorial with
Tears of salt or blood of flesh
Nor light, for it scalds the eyes
Nor dark, for it blinds them
It was rather morbid for a nursery rhyme. Godo wondered why they even let the children continue with it. Before his thoughts went very far, more children joined the original group, bringing balls, yo-yos, toy swords, and they all recited the same rhyme, until it overlapped, grew too loud, and Godo couldn't stand it, because there was something there that he was supposed to understand, but he just couldn't… The children swarmed up to him then, and tugged at his robes.
"Godo-san, Godo-san, what does it mean?"
"What is silver? What is gold?"
"How can the sun be dark? How can shadows be pale?"
"Godo-san, what memorial?"
More and more children surrounded him, and their questions pressed in on his mind, but the answers they sought were just out of reach. Just.. out.. of..
Suddenly, there were no children, and there was no village, only endless forest. Godo stepped cautiously forward. He was met by a clearing, by some strange coincidence perfectly circular. It had four guardians, one each at the four points of the compass. Without looking, Godo found himself knowing that there was a plate on the ground, and it – along with the statues – was engraved with the song the children so loved to sing.
The wall broke. Words passed on by his parents he had forgotten over time came rushing back on him. But that meant only one thing, and Godo didn't want to do it.
Leviathan whisked him back to the Shrine, and said, "You know what to do, my Heir. This is no longer a mere passing-on of wisdom. The seal will not hold much longer. If we move first, we will have the upper hand."
And then the flames closed back in, shrouding Leviathan in impenetrable heat and light, and Godo woke up.
Godo, Heir of Leviathan, and the closest the warrior people of Wutai would ever come to a King, was more than stumped. He was afraid.
And it wasn't for himself.